


Healing Hands

by emmadilla



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Healing, Injury, Massage, Not Canon Compliant, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 12:25:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18591238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmadilla/pseuds/emmadilla
Summary: After being ambushed by a bear, the Inquisitor is left with a strained back. In an attempt to help relieve her of her pain, Solas offers a massage with some of his healing magic, but of course it doesn't stay innocent for too long ...





	Healing Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something I've been kicking around for a minute or so. I know it's not canon compliant on how the Inquisitor gets together with Solas, but oh well, I kinda like mine better, to be honest. :P

Wincing, I carefully lowered myself into the scalding hot water of the bath. It wasn’t the temperature of the water, but rather the soreness of my muscles that prompted the reaction. _Damn bear. Just had to try something with us_. And of course it couldn’t have tried to go after us while we were still in The Hinterlands, oh no. It had decided to try its luck when we were almost back at Skyhold, after days of riding had turned us all a little stiff. There was really only so much we could do to stave off that kind of thing, and considering our need to return swiftly, we couldn’t take our time with a leisurely stroll that would have left our muscles happier with us. Well, relatively speaking. It was still a hefty distance no matter how you wanted to travel it.

 

And of course when it had attacked, it had been nearest to me. I truly had shit luck at times, it seemed. Between how I’d had to leap off my horse and get between the frightened animal and the attacking beast and how I’d had to fend it off until the rest of my party could join me, it had left my back twisted and shoulders sore in a way that was not leaving me anytime soon. After we’d killed the beast and skinned it for its hide, the rest of the journey had been absolutely miserable for me, and even when we’d finally arrived at the Inquisition stronghold, I’d wanted to cry for how far my quarters were from the stables, for how many stairs I’d have to climb. If the journey to Skyhold itself was long, the trip from the stables to my bedroom seemed longer still. Every step felt like agony, like a fire had been set across my back and was radiating ever outwards. But I was the Inquisitor. I had to smile and nod at our visitors and our guests, our soldiers and our merchants, anyone I might come across. It was something Josephine had been working ceaselessly to instil in me, to have the appearance of a gracious host no matter what was really going on behind the scenes. I swore at times the castle could be on fire and dragons could be circling overhead and Corypheus himself could be knocking on the door and she’d still scold me for having a scowl on my face. If anything, I had to chuckle at the image, but I grimaced as it jostled my shoulders too much.

 

Thankfully, I didn’t have to haul up the water for a bath myself, if I had I might have simply collapsed in a heap. That was handled by a lovely servant who had been around since Haven that I purposed to find later and heap some sort of reward upon. What reward exactly, I wasn’t sure, because my mind was not wanting to focus on much outside of the pain, but I was sure I would figure it out. I was good at that, at least. The healing herbs she also fetched wafted through my washroom with a light, calming scent, one that might have lulled me to sleep if not for the fire that licked across my muscles. I sank into the tub until the water was up to my chin, unwilling to let any part of my body go without the heat that I hoped and prayed would be eased by this. While I wasn’t a healer by any stretch of the imagination, I’d had my share of injuries, and I didn’t suspect this was anything more than a strain, something that would gradually get better over the next few days and weeks. Hopefully sooner, if I could actually get a chance to rest. That wasn’t too likely, however, not with Corypheus still on the loose and the Venatori and Red Templars causing problems across Thedas, to speak nothing of the political turmoil in Orlais. I groaned at the thought of the masquerade we were due to attend soon at Halamshiral, and I suddenly found myself wishing for another battle like Haven or Adamant instead of the political intrigue offered by The Game. Josephine and Leliana were probably excited over the whole prospect, however I was far from thrilled about it. But, we had an Empress to save, and despite the discomfort, I would what I had to do.

 

Speaking of discomfort, some time in the hot water did my body good. The pain wasn’t completely eased – far from it – but I felt like I could at least move with less aggravation. I’d probably have to supplement with more hot soaks over the coming days and then pray for the best when I’d hit the road again, but at least, in this moment, it seemed manageable. I soaked until the water had cooled almost completely, and then I carefully pulled myself out and dried off. Wrapping the towel around me, I didn’t even attempt to dress, intending on simply collapsing in the bed in my natural form and worrying about pulling material on my body the next morning.

 

Of course, all of that seemed to fly out the window as I stepped out of my washroom to find Solas waiting in my room. I was suddenly aware of just how naked I was underneath the thin towel, but he didn’t seem to regard me any differently as he smiled gently. “Did you need something?” I asked my mage companion.

 

“No, but I think you do,” he replied evenly. “I noticed how you were moving after that bear attacked.”

 

I shook my head. “Just strained my back, nothing more.”

 

His smile disarmed me as his voice dropped slightly. “Even if that is all, please, allow me to ease your discomfort,” he implored, motioning toward the bed.

 

There was no hesitation in my movements as I obeyed his direction, my body eager to be free of the ache and the fire that still plagued it, though not as strongly as it had before. The prospect of not having to wait, of having to be careful, that alone had me moving in response to his invitation as I laid face down on the bed, following his instruction in positioning. The bed dipped ever so slightly as he climbed on after me, and a heartbeat later, I felt his hands on my shoulders, warm and thrumming with magic. I’d felt them before, quite a few times, actually. It was usually out in the field, though, either around the campfire or in the semi-privacy of a tent. Here, in my isolated quarters, however, I became acutely aware of every little detail in ways I never had before. How soft his hands were, how they gently caressed over my skin with a certain care that Dorian never had – not that the Tevinter mage was _rough,_ this was just … _different –_ even the way his voice had dropped even lower as he hummed and said, “Your shoulders are very tight, Lethallan.” But even as he spoke, he worked his hands and his magic in tandem and I could feel the stiffness and the knots start to melt away under his skill. He was very thorough, leaving no part of my arms untouched, and when he finally finished, he leaned forward and whispered, “May I please lower this? So I can get at your back better ...”

 

Though my face burned, I lifted my torso enough to tug loose the loop that kept the towel up, allowing it to be eased down to my waist before I laid back down again. I thanked all the old gods that my skin was as dark as it was, because if I’d been as pale as Solas, the flush would have been obvious. As we both settled back into position, I had a snarky quip ready and loaded for him, but before I could get it out, he pressed into a particularly sore spot and I yelped instead.

 

He withdrew the pressure, but his hand stayed in the spot. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were hurt this badly.”

 

“It’s not bad, it’s just a strain,” I insisted.

 

He chuckled from behind me, and I felt my cheeks grow hot again just from the sound. “You are so stubborn sometimes.” With that, he resumed his work, even more gentle than before, allowing his magic to work out the issues and when that was done, his hands came in behind it, physically massaging away the aches and the pains. The fire that had previously spread across my back was reduced to smouldering coals by the time he was done, and I felt loose and limp and … needy. Hungry, even. Not for food, for Solas, for his touch, his presence. We hadn’t done much since our initial kiss in the Fade, and I had stayed true to my word, allowing Solas the space and the time to think things through. He was always so analytical. But I hoped and I prayed that he would come back to me, to us, and at least give what was blossoming between us a chance. Suddenly, the ache returned, not in my back but in my heart, my very soul. I longed for Solas so deeply, and I still had no answer as to how he felt about me, if he even wanted to pursue anything. But in that moment, the air felt heavy and the metaphorical distance between us didn’t seem so far. And, I figured … why not? Why not _try_ at least? If he wanted an out, he could use my injury, easily, and neither of us would have to suffer embarrassment. The possibility that he wouldn’t, however, set my heart to pounding.

 

“Solas?” I inquired, softly, hesitantly.

 

He responded with a, “Yes?” but I found I couldn’t put to words what I wanted to ask. Instead, I carefully pushed myself up to sitting and turned to face him, reaching out a hand to cup his cheek, my eyes desperately searching for any hint of pause or doubt. He covered my hand with his own, his gaze penetrating into my soul as he murmured, “Ar lath ma, vhenan.”

 

My eyes widened, surprised at his admission, my mind halfway wondering if what I’d heard was real or just some concoction of my imagination, longing made real by delusion alone.

 

The very edges of his lips tugged upwards in a soft smile. “It is real, vhenan,” he assured, as if he knew what I was thinking.

 

Returning his smile, I repeated, “Vhenan.”

 

This time, I didn’t have to initiate the kiss. He leaned forward and immediately enveloped my lips with his own. Just like in the Fade, his tongue breached my mouth, demanding entrance, to explore, to feel, to connect. However, outside of a dream, it was more intense, and I moaned into his mouth as his other hand cupped the nape of my neck, holding me close to him as he took as much as he wanted, everything that I wanted to give him. He bent me over until my back hit the sheets and then his hand began to wander.

 

Chuckling a little, I questioned, “Solas?”

 

His grin was sharp and downright dangerous as he murmured, “I must ensure I’ve banished all tension from your body, vhenan.”

 

My lip caught between my teeth as I returned his grin lecherously. “Well, you’re the healer, I’ll defer to your expertise.” And oh, was I ever glad that I did as his fingertips brushed over my lower lips, dipping between my folds and gliding over my bud as his lips and tongue ravished my neck. I moved my hand from his cheek to the back of his neck, needing something to hold on to, an anchor as he delighted in winding me up. While his fingers danced between my bud and my entrance, his mouth descended from my neck to my breasts, seeking out any erogenous zone he could find and making sure it was properly stimulated. He murmured in our language, but with the blood pounding in my ears, I could barely even hear him, he spoke so softly. It felt like a stream between my legs, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to continue or to stop and fill me with something a little more satisfying. My back arched on the bed as now I thanked the gods that my quarters were so isolated from everyone else, because there was no way I could have contained all the moans and the gasps and the sighs he pulled from me. His lips sought mine again as my hips twitched, so close, and I begged him, “Solas, _please_ ...”

 

I got no response from him other than his tongue darting out to swipe over my lips before he sealed his over top of mine and the barest addition of pressure he added to his fingers. It was just enough, just what I needed, and I fell apart right then and there, moaning my release into his mouth, my limbs shaking and hips jerking as the sensation of orgasm finally settled in.

 

When Solas’ lips finally parted from my own, I gasped for air, having somehow forgotten how the whole air flowing into lungs thing worked. The waves of pleasure had been so intense, everything in me had clenched, including my diaphragm, apparently. I laid there on the bed, trembling, as I felt Solas withdraw and I whimpered. “Patience,” he chided softly, and I heard the whisper of fabric as he removed his own clothes. I wasn’t even sure when I’d closed my eyes, but I opened them once more when he crawled back up on the bed. Reaching out to him, I pulled him close, and he enveloped me with his arms and his lips once more. I could feel his hard length against my thigh, but he was in no rush, no hurry. We had all night for each other, and likely a good bit of the morning as well, as I’d established a habit of sleeping in the day after arriving back from excursions. Hours of bliss, locked away in private quarters with no one to bother us, no one to intrude or ask anything of us. Only each other, only ourselves. No demands, no requests. No Inquisitor, no apostate. Just _us_. That was all we needed, all we wanted.

 

His hand trailed down my body, leaving goosebumps in its wake as he reached between us, slipping the tip of his length against my wet folds, rubbing it against my sensitive bud, making me cry out for want of need. I wondered if he would leave me like that, teased and on edge and wanting more, but he was at the end of his own rope as he pushed himself into me, slowly, his lips trailing up my neck as he seated himself deep within me. I was no virgin, but still, it had been some time since I’d been with anyone, and I felt like I could barely breathe from how damn _tight_ everything felt. I just worked to calm my breathing and on relaxing everything to make it a little easier, a little more pleasurable, but that was sometimes easier said than done.

 

Solas’ eyebrows furrowed. “Are you … have you done this before?”

 

_Oh shit, he thinks I’m_ … “I’m not a virgin, it’s just … been a while.”

 

That eyebrow of his quirked. “A while?” The very edge of his lip tugged upwards. “No one to your liking?”

 

I chuckled. “Not until recently ...”

 

His smile broadened. “Then I am quite happy to learn I am up to your exacting standards.”

 

I would have rolled my eyes and shot a snarky comment at him, but he chose that moment to roll his hips forward and anything I planned to say came out in a breathy moan. My fingers danced across the skin of his neck and his shoulders and his back as he began a slow, building pace that left me wanting, _needing_ , so much more. But he would only give at his own pace, and so I was left to take what he would give me and when, and that was it. But even still, I loved it, and I littered his neck with little kisses, encouraging him, begging him in my own way. And, in his own time, he obliged, his pace speeding up just a little bit here, his thrusts becoming harder there, until his slow and careful pace became hard and fast and I had to hold on to him for fear of being left breathless in its wake. His hands, his lips, they were everywhere, and I pulled him as close to me as I could get him. That familiar fire started to flicker low in my loins and as much as the first orgasm had satisfied me, I wanted _more_.

 

Solas sensed it, too, as intuitive as he was, and in response he hooked an arm under one of my legs, lifting it so that it wasn’t sitting on his shoulder, but it was cocked up enough to give his strokes an even deeper edge. As if that wasn’t enough, his thumb brushed under my sensitive nub, almost oversensitive at this point, and my hips jerked as my back arched. “That’s it, vhenan,” he murmured. “Let go. For me.”

 

He was always such a sweet talker. It wasn’t but a handful of strokes later that I came around his cock, hard, my whole body shaking and tears leaking out of my eyes from the intensity. I gripped him so hard, my fingernails left little half-moon impressions on his shoulders, though he didn’t seem to mind as he closed his eyes and grunted, resting his forehead on my own as he sought his own end, finding it after no more than a few minutes of effort, his hips stuttering before they stilled completely, a tearing moan on his lips.

 

I clung to him as he rested inside me still, half-hard, our mixed fluids slowly leaking out of me. I’d need to change the sheets, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care as we both laid there for a few minutes, silent as we both attempted to catch our breath. Solas was the first to recover, sliding out of me and rising to fetch something to clean us both up with. I realised I needed another bath, but I wasn’t about to have another drawn for me, and so I settled for the basic wash up that Solas provided. He took care of me, the way he always did, the way he’d always done from the moment we’d met, though I’d been unconscious for it. And when he finished, I didn’t even have to ask him to stay with me, he simply slid his arms around me and pulled me close, his hands brushing ever so lightly over my skin. As he did, I reached up to caress his face, my eyes lazily examining the planes of his smooth skin. We didn’t say anything to each other in the afterglow. We didn’t need to. As much as we spoke and held conversation on a daily basis, about everything from the Inquisition to battles to the Fade and his areas of expertise, in this moment … in this moment we didn’t need words. Instead, our soft caresses and gentle kisses spoke all the volumes that ever needed to be said.

 

The next morning, as we woke together, I smiled as I asked him, “So … never expected this from a Dalish warrior, did you?”

 

He returned the smile as he replied, “I did not. But I must say, I am very pleasantly surprised, vhenan.” His lips brushed my forehead as he murmured, “In all the world, I did not think it possible to find something this … unique. No matter what happens from here, this … this is something special. It is something I will cherish always.”

 

I smirked. “Sweet talker.”

 

“So you say. But there is something else sweet I would like this morning ...”

 

I pulled him in for another kiss, one he eagerly returned before leaving a trail of licks and kisses in his journey down my body. And if we spent the morning drinking in the pleasures of each other’s bodies? Well, no one with half a brain ever brought it up.


End file.
